Special
by JamieBell
Summary: Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met," says Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to you again--" "--I'll know you're back to normal," I retort. Hermione's POV when Percy's letter arrives OotP . R&R!


**Disclaimer:** None of what you recognize is mine, but the plot _does_ belong to me. Actually, the plot is J.K.'s, but I'm just expanding on Hermione's view of this incident. This is a one-shot which means _no_ extra chapters, and I am _not _going to continue it.

**Summary: **Percy's letter arrives (OotP, pg. 295. American edition), what exactly are Hermione's thoughts when Ron tears it to bits?

**Special**

I told myself I wouldn't give in… Serves them right for leaving their work until the very last minute! I work hard, I study, and I finish all my work early, while those boys expect me to tell them the answers and get by with minimal effort. I vowed I would keep my notes and knowledge to myself and that no matter how hard they begged I would remain strong. Unfortunately, I am too compassionate and merciful, and they know that fact well. Who am I to resist pleading eyes and exhausted voices raised in supplication for help that only I am capable of giving? I'm not. So here I am revising, correcting, and filling in gaps of those pitiful essays written for Professor Sinistra, mistress of Astronomy. Good heavens, Harry! It's ice, not _mice_! Europa's covered in _ice_! Do you even _know_ what a conclusion is, Ron? Honestly!

But I'm getting ahead of myself. You must be wondering what those boys could have possibly done to break my inner walls of strength and fortitude, causing me to do the unthinkable: doing their homework for them. Believe me, it was hard for me to understand; after all, I am the logical, analytical one. So what I discovered was a big surprise to me. Let us rewind to about two and a half hours ago…

* * *

I was sitting near the fire, with Crookshanks snuggled and purring on my knees; Ginny was curled up in an armchair across from me, lazily watching me charm my knitting needles to create more socks for the house-elves. I was sure the socks would bring the poor enslaved creatures to their senses. They couldn't possibly enjoy cleaning all that much, they'd never known any different, so how could they deny all the wonderful things around them if they never got a chance to experience them? As if she read my thoughts, Ginny spoke up, while stretching her stocking-feet toward the warm flames.

"Hermione, you _do_ realize this is quite pointless?" Ginny asked me, smiling faintly. I sniffed and lifted my chin and stroked my pet's head affectionately, causing Crookshanks' purring to gain in volume, raising it to a low rumble.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny," I said, defiantly. "Believe it or not, I'm sure that what I'm doing is for the best, even if all the elves besides Dobby don't know it." I was point-blank refusing to accept the fact that I might be wrong. Actually, the fact that I might be wrong was quite the impossibility.

"Oh Hermione, you don't understand," Ginny insisted. "House-elves _enjoy _their positions, they _like_ to clean and to serve others, it's their nature to do so. It may seem cruel, but they are really happy doing what they've always done. It would be too much of a shock to them, if you forced freedom on them; you've seen what Winky is like. I'd say you'd upset them more than you'd help them." I shook my head and with a swish of my wand, made the knitting needles click even faster, casting flickering light all over the darkening common room.

"I know what I'm doing Ginny," I said matter-of-factly. In a wheedling voice I added, "I bet if you helped me, you'd see that this is truly a good idea!" Ginny laughed and pulled herself out of her chair, stretching and yawning widely. Rubbing her fists in her eyes, she came over to stand next to my airborne socks. I surveyed their progress and decided that, with luck, I'd have ten more pairs to put in place the next evening. The house-elves would have no choice but to pick them up. Ginny smirked at my satisfied smile.

"What?!" I scowled at her. "It _is_ a good idea if you join S.P.E.W. Think of all we could accomplish!" She _tsked_ at me and closed her eyes, as if praying for patience.

"You're my friend Hermione, but I'd be mad if I agreed to join _spew_!" she said, leaning down and kissing Crookshanks on his squashed little head. "I think it's best if I just leave them alone. It's late, so don't stay up too long. I can see my brother and Harry have left their homework _again_. Say 'goodnight' to them for me, okay? I'm off to bed." She glanced over to the two boys bent almost double over the table spread with books, and in the flicker of the firelight, I saw a flash of longing in her eyes that was gone as fast as it came. She had told me that she had given up on Harry, but despite the fact that she was going out with Michael Corner, I could tell she still carried a tiny torch for the Boy-Who-Lived.

I smiled to myself. "Goodnight Ginny, I hope you sleep well. And it isn't _spew_, it's S.P.E.W.!" She only smiled and waved as she headed up the stairs to the girls' dormitories. I pushed a reluctant Crookshanks off my lap and headed over to where my two best friends were on the verge of killing themselves over their essays. I tried to suppress a yawn, but to no avail.

"Nearly done?" I asked, I was really sleepy, but I didn't want to leave them working while I slumbered.

"No," Ron said shortly, glaring daggers at his essay. Harry was too dazed to speak. I leaned over Ron's shoulder, skimming quickly over what he had written. Unable to help myself, I started pointing out all of his mistakes.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," I informed him, pressing my finger to the offending line of his Astronomy parchment, "and it's Io that's got the volcanoes." Ron immediately assumed a stormy attitude, he most undoubtedly was annoyed at my attempt to help.

"Thanks," he snarled, scratching out the sentences with the mistakes in them. I sighed, why did he always do this? Didn't he realize that I _wasn't_ trying to brag or boast my intelligence, and that I was only trying to _help_ him? Why did I always put myself up for it anyway? I cared, that's why.

"Sorry, I only —" Ron cut me off angrily.

"Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticize —" Would he never stop biting my head off before I had a chance to explain?

"Ron —" I was really on the verge of yelling at him to stop being such an insufferable prat. Harry meanwhile was nodding off and jerked up at Ron's icy tone. He gazed wide eyed at us.

"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here —" All right, so maybe I did nag a bit too often, but I meant well, really I did. I rolled my eyes and glanced across the room. My eyes widened and a gasp left my lips.

"No — look!" Harry's and Ron's eyes followed my pointing finger to the window right across from us. A familiar brown screech owl stood importantly on the windowsill, staring at Ron. Ron blinked.

"Isn't that Hermes?" I asked carefully, amazement showing in my voice. I needn't have worried about mentioning Percy; it wasn't Mrs. Weasley here after all. It was apparent that her children were able to handle their emotions quite well. They were angry, of course, but they managed to control themselves… well, most of the time. They didn't let tears show, but that might have been because all, but one, were boys.

"Blimey, it is!" said Ron quietly, tossing his quill aside, and getting up. "What's Percy writing to me for?" He crossed the floor and pulled open the window, letting Hermes swoop inside to land on his abandoned essay. The owl held out his leg, from which a letter was tied to. Ron pulled it off, and the owl left immediately, but not before tracking tiny little claw prints in ink across Ron's sketch of the moon Io.

"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron, examining the scroll suspiciously at all angles while he resettled himself in the chair. I peered at the words on the outside: _To Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts._ He looked up at me and Harry and lifted an eyebrow. "What d'you reckon?"

"Open it!" I suggested eagerly. I glanced at Harry, whose face had taken on a wary look; he nodded. Ron unrolled the letter and began to read to himself. I watched his face carefully, and was surprised to see disgust fill his usually cheerful features. An unmistakably angry scowl was now on his face, and after finishing, he tossed the letter to me without saying a word. Harry leaned over and we read it together:

_Dear Ron,_

_ I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect._

_ I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility._

_ But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions._

_ From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this — no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favorite — but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different — and probably more accurate — view of Potter's behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing — and see if you can spot yours truly!_

_ Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality if you ask me and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt._

_ It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter — I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent — but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behavior that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Delores Umbridge, a really delightful woman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you._

_ This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week — again, see the _Prophet_ tomorrow!). I shall say only this — a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!_

_ I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people — the Minister really could not be more gracious to me — and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes._

_ Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect._

_ Your brother,_

_ Percy_

I watched Harry's stricken face turn to Ron's. I couldn't believe that it was Percy who had written this. I had thought Percy to be foolish for his decision to be loyal to the Ministry, but I hadn't thought that he would stoop so low as to discourage Ron's friendship with Harry. An unfamiliar surge of hot anger pooled in my stomach and made my fingers prickle with wrathful energy, and I felt the urge to slap Percy's face as hard as I had done to Malfoy's two years before.

"Well," Harry said stiffly, trying to force some humor into this incident and pretend it was all a joke. I had never seen anything less funny in my life. The pain in his voice was evident and Ron's face was red, but with anger or humiliation, I couldn't tell. "If you want to — er — what is it?" (He opened the letter and scanned the contents for a particular part.) "Oh yeah — 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."

"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. Harry silently placed the parchment into his palm. We waited, holding our breaths, to see what Ron would do. "He is —" Ron said, in jerky fragments, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's" — he tore it into quarters — "biggest" — he tore it into eighths — "_git._" He stalked over to the fire and flung the scraps into the dancing flames.

I was ready to break down into tears and hug Ron with all my might and kiss him on the cheek, but I restrained myself. He was terrified when I did things like that, and I only did them when I was half delirious from stress; what would he think if I did it of my own accord? I didn't want to think about that. All I knew was that I was incredibly proud of him, so proud I didn't have anything to say to him. I was speechless until Ron spoke again.

"Come on, we've got to get this finished some time before dawn," he said to Harry, with an air of getting the worst over. He sat down and pulled Professor Sinistra's essay back in place in front of him. I knew exactly what I needed to do, although it was against my better judgment. Ron most assuredly did not know it, but it was the only way I could show him how impressed I was with his recent actions.

"Oh, give them here," I said abruptly, holding out my hands to them. Ron looked up, startled.

"What?" he blurted. Harry looked up with glazed eyes, his expression identical to Ron's. I rolled my eyes.

"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them," I said briskly, my sleepiness immediately gone. The boys' shoulders slumped forward.

"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver," said Ron. Yes, I know, I thought laughingly to myself. "What can I — ?"

"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,'" I said, snatching the essays from the both of them. I smiled as the two boys collapsed in their chairs.

"Thanks a million, Hermione," Harry said weakly, rubbing his eyes. I nodded and set to work…

* * *

So now we're back where we started; I'm sitting here correcting their essays and just thinking about that letter. Tonight, more than _anything_, had shown just what kind of a wonderful person Ron was. I knew that Ron thought that he didn't amount to much of anything, and although he didn't know it, by throwing that letter in the fire, he contradicted every pessimistic opinion about himself.

I chew the end of my quill and contemplate a bit more. Ron believed he was nothing special, just a lower than average boy, the Boy-Who-Lived's sidekick, lousy at Quidditch, poor, and not good at academics at all. I shook my head, he was so much more than what he believed himself to be. He was loyal to his family and his friends, and he defended them, even though it meant being ridiculed and shunned. Even though he wasn't rich, he was filled with kindness and a wonderful sense of right and wrong. I knew _that_ was more important than any amount of Galleons or Sickles could buy.

He refused to listen to his brother's stupid advice, knowing that his views were warped by his ambition… although it _must_ have hurt him to know that Percy, his own kin, was acting this way, towards Harry, their parents, and Dumbledore. And although tonight was nothing to laugh at, the funny thing is, I have got the widest smile on my face. _This_ was what made Ron special and what made everyone love him, myself included. _I love Ron?_ What? My cheeks grow hot with this realization. That's not so impossible. I knew that! His values were strong, and even in shaky times, he came through for those he loved, something that not many could boast of. Now I understand, _this_ is exactly what makes Ron rise above all the rest… these traits that belong especially to him… _all_ of this makes him special.

I wish I could tell him, I wish I knew _how _to tell him… But I'm only Hermione, the girl who lives in the library, who knows every thing and can't keep her mouth shut about it; the girl who's plain and ordinary, with the bushy hair and the same old brown eyes. And you know what? That is probably why he'll brush it all off and deny it, but at least _I _know better. That boy is _so_ stubborn and I _know _he won't listen, but there's still time to overcome that. In fact, maybe there's a book around here that'll tell me how to talk to stubborn, red-headed, fifteen year old wizard boys. That's actually a brilliant idea! I must remember that. Yes, I feel much better, someday he'll know _exactly_ how I feel about him… But right now, I'm satisfied with being the friend of Ronald Weasley and having him for my friend. He catches my eye and flashes a quick grin; I return it with a thumbs-up and go back to my work. Nope, I'm not ready for romance... at least not yet, and if I'm not, Ron _definitely_ isn't. Yep, there goes that dribble of chocolate down his chin from that Chocolate Frog he forgot was in his mouth.

****

* * *

**A/N- **Ahhh, I liked that one! Very nice and sweet, in my opinion. Do tell me what you thought of it!


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